As It Always Will Be
by teawithmilk
Summary: [AU of 2012!verse, with some SAINW] The Turtles were adopted into the Foot Clan, and raised in the ranks... and with different rules come different punishments for failure.


So this is an AU that falls into nodelinquent's Foot Clan turtles AU collection that has eaten half of the Tumblr!fandom's brain (including mine!). In this AU, all of the turtles were raised in the Foot Clan. They also were named after Edo-period Japanese artists, rather than Renaissance Italians:

Leonardo = Hokusai  
Donatello = Harunobu  
Raphael = Hiroshige  
Michelangelo = Utamaro

and Karai is awesome bigsis. In this AU, we also get 2012ish!SAINW!Mikey who lost his arm after really, really screwing up and pissing Shredder off because why not.

Turtles = nickelodeon.

* * *

**—****As It Always Will Be—**

"Utatan," Hoku says, running the curl of his fingers against his youngest brother's cheek. "Here. You have to eat."

It's that simple request that undoes them both. Utamaro reaches for the bowl with his left arm, the stump hanging worthless in the air for a moment before realisation hits. The cut had been so perfectly done.

Enough to incapacitate his brother, and enough to serve as a permanent reminder. Always there in sight, a useless piece of flesh and bone.

The air stills, and for a brief moment, Hoku hates himself. His failure to instill honesty and obedience in his wildest sibling. His failure to not notice Utamaro's momentary lapse in judgement. His failure at not protecting his brother.

Utamaro's face creases and his head drops, mouth pressing on the lip of his shell and biting there to stop the sobs before they come. Hokusai puts the bowl aside and fair lunges forward, hauling Utamaro against him, pressing his head against his younger brother's, his hand dipping into the space between body and shell along his shoulders and soothing gently. "Hey," he shushes. "Heyyyy, it's okay. _It's okay_." Within the broad circle of his arms he can feel Utamaro's body convulse with tears, and the rough drag of bandages pulling against his skin. "Utatan, _mou ii'nda_."

He considers, for a moment, to ask Master to remove the rest of the arm; considers, even, removing it himself. Too close to an artery, he imagines Haru saying. Too risky what with their strange biology.

"You should have let me die." Utamaro's remaining hand curls into a fist against Hoku's chest and pounds once.

"Never," he replies fiercely. "And never without honour." He waits for the shakes to still before pressing Utamaro back so that he can look at his brother clearly. In the soft lighting of their room, the dark circles are more pronounced, the angry red of tears makes the soft baby-blue stand out. There's a gauntness in his cheeks that should _never_ be there, and he can't tear his eyes away from the wreckage of Utamaro's left side.

There is one way he can help with this. On the tray next to him, he had brought a small array of light food - good broth, some rice, a little fish and some fruit.

And Karai's _kaiken_.

Utamaro looks at the blade with a slow-dawning understanding. _Not without honour_, Hoku said. So now he restores it. He reaches, but his older brother stops him, says "No, Utatan," then calls for the others.

From the sliding door, his remaining brothers file in and make a square, Hiro to Utamaro's left, and Haru to his right. When they are settled, Hokusai lays out a small napkin in the middle, sets the kaiken on top, and then bows, low and deep. "It has been my duty - my pride - since we were children to lead us. Through my failure, I have brought disgrace and injury to Utamaro, and dishonour upon our family."

He holds his left arm out, with the _kaiken_ in his right.

"I take the shame as my own."

Then he digs the blade roughly into his bicep, scoring a deep line through the flesh and around his arm at the same length where Utamaro's arm now ends. When it is done, he bows again, then passes the knife to Hiroshige. The blood runs freely down his arm, and still stains the knife that Hiro - after a curt, short bow - plunges too, into the muscle of his arm.

Utamaro can't breathe. "No," he whispers, feeling sick at the tense, stoic expression as Hiro finishes up his line and bows again. "No, no, no no no stop _this isn't right_!"

Harunobu bows to him, love in his soft brown eyes, and picks up the blade. "You are our brother. Our youngest. We should have protected you. This is the least we can do." He makes the most noise when he finally begins his line - but even that is small, a tight choked sound and a harsh hissing of breath as he rips through his own skin.

When it is done, they bow again, deep and low and Utamaro is weeping quietly, silent tears flooding his face and dripping into his shell to rest below his collarbone. Haru and Hiro rush him and tangle him up in a ball of shell and skin, and Hokusai cleans off the blade. He folds the napkin once, twice, then tucks it into his belt before joining the turtle puddle. It reeks of blood and salt, and Utamaro is choking on words: "no no no why did you do that _it was my fault you stupid dummies_ now we're all gonna get it again because".

"Karai and I will deal with Master Shredder," Hoku says lowly from his place on top of the pile, and sits up, hauling Hiro with him.

For the first time in a long while, Utamaro allows Haru to baby him, gently pulling him up into cross-legged sitting with a bloody arm smearing along his shoulders, and he can't stop staring at all the blood. On their legs. Down their arms. On the _tatami_ floor. "You guys are— that's gonna scar," he says, in wonder. Hiro snorts, rubbing blood around his wound - it's not even clear any more if it's his own blood or that of his brothers.

"That's the point, dummy." He splays his wet hand for all to see. "We're brothers. What happens to one, happens to us all."

"This is a mistake we learn from," Hoku adds. "In this family, there is no shame in mistakes so long as they are not made again." His voice drops, and he casts a careful look towards the door out of the room. "No matter what Master Shredder says."

Utamaro clutches instinctively to his arm. Haru squeezes him once and says nothing. Instead, he reaches out with his foot and tugs the tray over. "Here," he prompts, picking up the soup bowl with his cleanest hand and nudging it gently into Utamaro's right hand. "Eat. All of it. Get your strength back."

—end—


End file.
